“I can’t say such things interest me much,” she admitted. “May I ask why you were targeted? Were you caught with some lady or other? I mean… well… given your habit of spying.”
The duke chuckled, and the laughter lit up his face. She liked it, was drawn to it.
To him.
“Why would you think such a thing? Is it because of my wonderfully good looks?”
Charlotte reddened again and turned away. “I did not say that, Your Grace. Honestly, did no one ever teach you modesty?”
He chuckled again. “Ah, you’re quite right, my lady. Perhaps I shall remember that the next time I am leaping off a rock into a lake, quite unaware of who might be watching. Oh, wait, no. That’s notme,is it?”
Despite the tease in his voice, Charlotte gasped. She opened her mouth to speak, but the rage that coursed through her was too strong, too fierce, and words failed her. Instead, she snapped her jaw shut, threw her cotton napkin onto her half-finished breakfast, pushed her chair back, and stormed out of the room.
Chapter 8
“I was thinking peach ribbons for my hair,” Chelsea said as the two young ladies made their way into the entrance hall of the estate later that day.
“I saw some of the prettiest gold and silver thread in the haberdashery the other day,” Charlotte said. “That would look so beautiful wound into your hair. Then you can keep the ribbons for your bouquet.”
“A wonderful idea!”
The butler emerged from his pantry near the door and reached for the coat hangers with the ladies’ cloaks.
“So the haberdashery is a must,” Charlotte said. She wordlessly put her arm out for the butler to wrap her in her cloak, then she tied the ribbon at the front herself. “Which other shops do you wish to visit?”
“I would like to check on my gown at themodiste,” Chelsea said. “She has yet to write to me to tell me the gown is ready, but you know how impatient I am. Even a glimpse at part of it would excite me. And then the glover, of course. And I’d likea new hair slide. One that shines in the light as I walk down the aisle. You should have one too, Charlotte dear.”
“A full day then.” Charlotte grinned, pulling her shoulders in with the excitement of what was to come.
When she was with Chelsea, she forgot all about her roiling emotions and her confusion about the duke. It was all nonsense, anyhow. She had managed to get herself riled up—and strangely drawn to—a man who made little to no difference in her life whatsoever. And they had barely even met!
Once they were both fully cloaked, Charlotte fed her arm through Chelsea’s, and they began toward the door.
The clunk of it opening made her jump, more so because it was sooner than she had expected.The duke!The thought flashed in her mind, mixing hope with fear and annoyance, but she pushed it away as quickly as it had arrived, irritated that she had thought of him at all.
It wasn’t the duke. She watched curiously as in walked a man she vaguely recognized. He had changed greatly in the years since she had last seen him, and she noted how handsome he had become over the years.
“You’re not going out, are you?” he said, looking directly at Chelsea.
“Stewart!” she cried.
Chelsea dashed forward, her cloak flowing out behind her, and threw her arms around her cousin while Charlotte shuffled awkwardly behind them, feeling rather like a gooseberry.
“It’s so good to see you,” Chelsea said, her voice muffled by Stewart’s neck. “I can’t believe you’ve been here for two whole days already, yet I haven’t seen you!”
Stewart chuckled, pulling himself away from the embrace. “More like a day and a half, but it does feel like we’ve missed each other at every turn,” he said. He glanced at Charlotte. “And this cannot possibly be the Miss Charlotte who was barely taller than my knee?”
Charlotte smiled weakly at him, curtsying politely. “Good morning, my lord. It appears we have both aged somewhat since our last meeting.”
“And what a beautiful young lady you have become,” he said with a bow. “But please, call me Stewart. You have been friends with my dear cousin here for so long that you might as well be family yourself.”
“Sheisfamily,” Chelsea said, cuddling into Charlotte’s arm.
Warm gratitude flushed through her, and she smiled at her oldest, dearest friend.
“Actually,” Chelsea continued. She glanced mischievously at Charlotte and then at Stewart. “I was hoping you two would meet again. I think you will become good friends.”
She raised her eyebrows, making her meaning perfectly clear to both Charlotte and Stewart. Charlotte forced herself to smile. Stewart was handsome enough, she had already noted that. More so thanenough, even. But that objectivity had returned to her.
